Sunsets on the Ocean
by Madelyn
Summary: Sappy little C&M stand alone... read and review!


**A.N.****  So I'm not finished with ****Leaving****Town**** but I needed a break from that to write something cute, sappy and non-angsty for a change.  So here's my little stand-alone :-)  It takes place (I don't know the seasons, I can never get it straight) before they live together but after everyone finds out about them.  Enjoy, and please review!!!**

**-Maddy.**

 Disclaimer:  I don't own these characters.

                It was going to be one of those rare sunsets when the whole sky lights up in oranges that give way to pinks and reds and purples, one of those sunsets when at one point, you'll be able to see every hue of the rainbow in the sky.  He could just tell.  Something about the warm gentle June breeze and the way the sun was just beginning to dip ever so slightly in it's grand descent told him.  It was too promising to pass up.

            So Chandler hopped in the car and drove to her restaurant, taking only the necessary provisions:  a blanket, a bottle of wine and two glasses, his college sweatshirt that she had claimed as her own, two spoons and two pints of Ben and Jerry's on ice in a cooler.  

            When he arrived, it was almost five thirty, and the place was just getting ready to open for dinner.  Monica was about two hours into her shift when a voice startled her into dropping a mixing bowl full of something.  

            "Hey, sexy," he said grinning.  "You a little jumpy?"

            "Hey!  What are you doing here?" she asked with a wide grin as she made her way toward him and kissed him sweetly.

            "Surprising you-" he began.

            "I'm surprised," she nodded smiling.

            "Surprising you by kidnapping you," he finished with a sly smile, dangling the car keys.  She looked at him.

            "I'm working."

            "The hat tipped me off," he joked.

            "You're such a smart ass," she said in feigned exasperation.  "I can't leave."

            "Chelsea will cover you," he pleaded as Monica's assistant chef entered the kitchen.  "Won't you Chelsea?"

            "Sure, are you sick?" Chelsea asked in concern.

            "No," Monica began.

            "Yes, very sick," Chandler interrupted.  "In fact, if she doesn't leave immediately, the whole place could become contaminated."

            "Contaminated?" Chelsea asked, eyes widening.

            "Yeah, I have to get this little sicky to the doctor," Chandler said before Monica had a chance to protest.

            "Monica, go with him!  I've got this covered," Chelsea insisted, half out of kindness and half out of her fear of germs.

            "See?  Chelsea's got it covered," Chandler told her, tugging her sleeve and making little jumpy movements toward the door.  She tried to supress a grin.

            "Are you sure?" she asked.

            "Positive, it's a Tuesday.  It'll be dead anyway.  Go get better," Chelsea urged.

            "Okay…" Monica conceded, removing her hat and jacket as Chandler grabbed her purse and hurried her out the door.

            "Thanks!" Chandler told Chelsea on their way.  Once they finally got outside, Chandler's arms wrapped around her from behind when she saw the car.

            "Okay, now you want to tell me what's going on?" she asked as he kissed her neck.

            "We're going to watch the sunset," he said simply.  She twisted in his arms and he held her closer.

            "The sunset," she echoed, a smile creeping onto her face.  "What's the car for?"

            "We don't have to use it, but the beach is kind of a far walk," he teased, kissing her gently.

            "The beach?" she asked excitedly, returning his kiss.

            "I figured we'd take a drive out to South Hampton… hang out for a while."

            "Why are you the most amazing boyfriend ever?" she asked incredulously, kissing him again, for longer this time.  He pulled away and ushered her into the car.

            "There will be _plenty of time for that when we get there," he told her, winking._

            "It's amazing," Monica said quietly, leaning back in Chandler's arms, her toes buried in the cool sand.     

            "Little improvement over our Asphalt Beach roof dates?" he asked, kissing her hair.

            "I love our roof dates," she said earnestly.  He smiled.  

            "So do I."

            "But it's nice to get out of the city," she said, closing her eyes.  His arms encircling her held her tighter.  

            "It's so peaceful out here.  I could really see myself living at the beach someday," Chandler mused.  Monica shifted to sitting sideways across his lap so that she could look at him.

            "Like, year round?" she asked, surprised.

            "Yeah… I don't know, I like being in a city but I think I would like being here more, you know, once I… settled down, or whatever," he finished with a shy smile.  

            "I don't know if I could ever leave New York," she said thoughtfully.

            "Well, there's one condition to me moving here for good, anyway," he said.  She looked at him questioningly.  "You being here with me."  Her face broke out in a smile and she leaned in to share a soft, romantic kiss.

            "Look at that," she pointed when they parted.  "The sun went down."  The sky was purple now, at the bottom where red met blue, and the stars were beginning to appear higher up.  "It's… breathtaking," she said happily.  

            "It sure is," he agreed.  She looked at him thoughtfully.

            "What?" he asked after a few seconds, laughing.

            "Maybe I could leave the city after all," she said.  He hugged her.

            "Some day, you and me are gonna be married and have like a whole gaggle of kids-"

            "A gaggle?" she mocked.

            "Yeah, a gaggle, and we're going to outgrow the apartment and move out here, or up to Montauk or something, and have a little house a block or so from the beach where the kids can play and build sandcastles and learn to surf-"

            "My kids are not learning how to surf," she interjected smiling.

            "Oh yes they are.  Someone's gotta teach us," he replied.  "And we can grow old together, watching them grow up and watching the sunset just like this, on those wooden beach chairs every night.  Or every Friday night.  Or something."  

            "I love that," she said happily.

            "You do?" he asked.  "I thought you wanted a big brownstone in a good neighborhood and private schools and Central Park on Saturdays and all that stuff."

            "I did," she said.  "Your's sounds better.  And I didn't just mean I loved the idea; I love the fact that you just talked about our future with no prompting from me for five minutes all by yourself," she said, giving him a kiss.

            "I see," he said laughing.  "Looks like I'm growing up."

            "Looks like it."

            "Ice cream?" he asked, reaching for the cooler.  She laughed.

            "Ah yes, you're quite the sophisticate."

            "Hey, I got you Chunky Monkey," he protested, handing her a carton and a spoon.

            "My favorite!" she exclaimed.  "Sophistication is over rated."

            After two pints of Ben and Jerry's and a few glasses of wine, the stars were out fully and the sky was black.  They were lying side by side on the blanket, fingers entwined lightly, in one of those comfortable silences that they knew so well.

            "Thank you," she whispered, breaking the silence.

            "For what?" he asked, turning his head towards her and stroking her cheek.

            "For tonight… for being such a great person.  For being in love with me," she said.

            "I should be thanking you for the last part," he said.  "I love you so much it hurts sometimes."

            "Me too," she responded, kissing him lightly.  "You know, there are millions of girls out there who wish for the guy that will show up at their work with a car and a picnic blanket and whisk them off to a romantic beach for the sunset, and I'm the one who got him.  How'd I get that lucky?"

            "Right place at the right time, babe," he joked.  "You give me too much credit.  Before you… I didn't do any of that stuff.  You make me want to," he added seriously.

             "You're the best thing in my life, and I don't think you know that all the time."

            "Yes, I do.  Because I feel the same way about you," he told her tenderly.  His lips sought and found hers in a passionate kiss and she responded eagerly.  She rolled over him and continued to kiss him.

            "Can we do this here?" he asked, surprised at her initiative.

            "I don't see anyone around," she said mischeviously, kissing him three times on the lips.

            "You're the best girlfriend ever.  I can't believe I'm actually about to have sex on the beach and it's not in a glass."

            "You're a beach virgin?" she asked, surprised, kissing his neck.

            "You're not?" he asked suspiciously.  She stopped what she was doing slowly.

            "Yeah I am.  What?" 

            "No you're not!" he exclaimed.  "Who?"

            "I don't know what you're talking about," she said with a guilty laugh.

            "Who was it?  You have to tell me now," he insisted.

            "If I tell you can we pretend it never happened and go back to what we were doing?"

            "Yes."

            "Davy Sherman, spring break of my junior year, Miami."

            "Davy Sherman?  You had sex with a guy named Davy?"

            "Why are we still talking about this?"

            "Was he any good?" he asked jealously.

            "You promised if I answered that one question it would be over!" she protested, resting her forehead against his.

            "Fine," he conceded, kissing her slowly.

            "This is already better," she said softly after a few moments.  He grinned and kissed her again.  "Mm, I love you," she murmered.

            "I love you too, Mon."

            "Okay, I got one, I got one.  Would you rather eat that whole loaf of moldy white bread we found in your kitchen last week or go to work naked?" Monica asked as they drove back to the city.

            "Why, Monica, why'd you have to bring up the bread?  Do you _want me to throw up all over you?" he shuddered._

            "Answer the question."

            "Naked."

            "Really…" Monica mused.  He gave her a look.

            "Okay, my turn.  Would you rather move back in with your parents for six months or live with Ross for six years?"

            "That's more disturbing than the bread.  I guess my parents for six months.  But I don't think I'd make it out alive, so don't get any ideas," she said.

            "Yeah, like I'd want to sneak in and out of your bedroom when you share a wall with your father."

            "Do you miss the sneaking at all?" she asked after a moment.

            "No.  Do you?"

            "Sometimes," she admitted.  "It was all kind of easier without everyone breathing down our necks."

            "Eh, it's not so bad.  Besides, you're not remembering the bad parts of it."

            "Like what?"

            "Like me never being able to sleep over.  Like having to set the alarm for four thirty so I could get out before Rachel would wake up.  Like not being able to hold hands or kiss or show any affection around them.  Like not being able to disappear together to go watch the sunset."

            She smiled and laced her fingers through his hand on the stick shift.  "Yeah, you're right."  She rested her head on his shoulder and no one spoke for a few minutes.

            "There's the city," she said, pointing across the Hudson at the lights and buildings and commotion.

            "Yup.  There it is."

            "Tonight was probably one of the best nights of my life, you know," she told him.

            "Me too.  Thanks for letting me kidnap you."

            "Thanks for being the best boyfriend in the world."

            "This is getting a little too mushy for us, don't you think?" he asked her jokingly.

            "You're right.  Okay, here's one.  Would you rather sleep in a pit of snakes or in a tub of mice?"

            He started laughing.  "You're disgusting."

            "You're a jerk," she said.

            "Hate you."

            "You too," she replied laughing.

The End.  I'm not going to continue it, but review so I know if I am at all any good at writing this happy stand alone stuff :-)  Thanks!!!


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